Bad Habits
by Rachael Rothman
Summary: Hiro and Tadashi have a major fight, causing Hiro to seek refuge in the less than savoury habits of the bot-fighting scene. Tadashi starts to pick up little hints of what his brother might be up to... and eventually, when he finds out, all hell breaks loose.
1. Just One Puff

**Ray's Note: **This story is going to contain stuff about underaged smoking, drinking, etc. Edited, I apologise for the initial spelling/grammar errors or sloppy style because I was desperate to share this idea ASAP and didn't proofread it a final time! :(

TIMELINE:

Takes place after Tadashi and Hiro's night at the holding cell, after their encounter with Yama. But Hiro doesn't immediately attempt to go bot-fighting after being bailed out by Aunt Cass. He finds Tadashi's GPS tracking device instead... And gets really REALLY angry.

I know some of you guys really can't stand OCs, but I assure you these are of the non Mary-Sue variety, and actually contribute to the overall plot.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Bad Habits**  
Chapter One

* * *

It was another night in San Fransokyo, and the usual in one of its less than... family-friendly streets.

Graffiti covered the walls of Kabuki-cho, and though most of the shops were closed for the night, a few people staggered along the cement pavements, drunk and laughing. The steady beat of DJ Magika's new single could be heard from Club Sokyo a few buildings down towards a dirty alley, littered with broken beer bottles and cigarette stubs.

The neon lights flickered as a young teenager walked quickly through the street. He was looked terribly out of place, with short, messy black hair and adorably big and innocent dark eyes, looking around cautiously, the unfriendly atmosphere keeping him on edge. An odd little robot was held in his hand, a goofy yellow face painted on its head.

Despite his nerves, he felt rather sated after leaving a bot-fight, unharmed and loaded with cash. It turned out the West Side bot-fighters weren't sore losers... unlike those from the East Side... namely Yama.

Hiro still remembered the way it hurt when the larger man had flung him against the wall, after Hiro tore 'Little Yama' apart (what an ironic name). The teen slid the night's earnings out of his pocket, allowing himself a little peek.

Good harvest, he thought smugly to himself as he slid them swiftly back into the pocket of his jacket.

His _new_ jacket.

Why yes, he'd actually went and got himself an article of clothing without Aunt Cass.

Why?

'Cuz Tadashi was a stupid, over-protective brother who lied.

He'd figured out how Tadashi always managed to track him down!

That jerk had sewn a tracking device his hoodie! He had found out after shaking the dust off it after that night in the holding cell... and felt an odd little bump in the collar. He never would have found it if he hadn't used a pen-knife to very carefully unstitch the almost invisible thread Tadashi had used to seal the opening. It was the same size as a microchip, a silver, circular shape.

He had been (and still was) FURIOUS!

Hiro sighed angrily as he remembered the fierce argument they had upon its discovery.

* * *

_"I'm only doing this for your own good! You're wasting your life on illegal bot-fighting. You're going to get thrown in jail someday— Heck, you'd have been sent to a boys' home by now if I hadn't saved you all those times."_

_The younger Hamada finally snapped._

_"I THOUGHT YOU TRUSTED ME!" He screamed, angry tears escaping his eyes._

_"You're always breathing down my neck about quitting bot-fighting and joining your stupid nerd school! Why can't you just accept that I DON'T WANT TO GO TO COLLEGE, and stop telling me what to do?!"_

_Tadashi's paused, his eyes filled with hurt. Did his little brother really feel that way? Hiro looked angry- and for the first time in his life... Tadashi knew this wasn't like one of their normal fights. No, this time it was different. His baby brother was finally growing independent from him, no longer looked to him to guide him in life. It hurt... he always knew this day would come, just not like this._

_There was an awkward silence as Hiro struggled to decipher what his brother was thinking._

_Tadashi sighed, causing Hiro to flinch, and massaged the bridge of his nose. He looked tired, Hiro noticed. The eye bags, the unshaved jaw, the resigned expression on his face when he looked at him. Hiro felt a stab of guilt. Was all this because Tadashi worried about him?_

_It lasted only a few seconds... before Hiro remembered why exactly he was angry, and reverted back to stubborn exterior. He frowned and crossed his arms, turning away from his brother, not wanting to let himself be tricked into feeling guilty._

_"Hiro?" Tadashi asked, slowly._

_The younger refused to answer._

_"Hiro... please. You're being childish."_

_Clearly this was the wrong thing to say. So, now he was CHILDISH?! Hiro's nostrils flared as he exhaled and he resisted the urge to tackle his brother onto the floor._

_The awkward silence continued, Hiro getting more and more irritated by the second. Neither of them was willing to admit defeat. Hiro refused to give his brother the satisfaction of an apology; because that would be admitting that it was okay to put freaking trackers in his clothing, and god knows where else! Tadashi was just... tired. Very tired._

_Finally, the sound of Tadashi flinging off his cap and shrugging his jacket onto his bed caused Hiro to turn around, wondering if his brother was ready to call it quits and hug it out. Their fights always ended with a hug, and sometimes a noogie-_

_"… You know what, Hiro? I'm done. I need a damn break." Tadashi said, his voice as hard as steel._

_The door slammed shut, startling the already disgruntled Hiro. His eyes widened._

_... Tadashi left?_

_For once, it had been Tadashi walking away from an argument. It left Hiro feeling rather... shocked. Was Tadashi finally giving up on him going to the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology (aka, nerd school)?_

_Hiro felt his tense body relax, but for some strange reason he couldn't escape this nagging feeling that this was a bad sign. Something didn't feel right. Half of him wanted Tadashi to come back and nag him more (seriously!) and the other half wanted to just flop onto the bed and fall asleep, maybe continue ignoring his brother because who the hell gave him to right to invade people's privacy?!_

_The moment of unease was eventually overcome by the urge to go bot-fighting to ease his mind._

_Oh, and nevermind Tadashi, his brain supplied. They'd end up making up sooner or later... they always did._

_What could possibly change this time?_

_And now, there would be nobody to interrupt his fun! Though he might need a back-up plan in case he got cornered again like the last time. Maybe make a stun-gun... disguised as a mobile phone! He brightened, immediately thinking up a million and one ideas, his brain ready to get to work._

_Oh, but before he got started..._

_Hiro took the jacket Tadashi had violated and flung it into the trash._

_He didn't need it anymore._

* * *

"Hey, kid."

Hiro froze, and his body tensed. He clutched Megabot tightly to his chest, while his other hand slipped into his jacket, fondling the mobile stun-gun he'd (thankfully) remembered to bring.

What was it this time?

Another gang of bullies waiting to pick on their next victim?

Hiro was getting tired of these sore losers, he was more than tempted to sic Megabot and the stun-gun-mobile on them...

"Got a light?"

The fourteen-year-old blinked at the unusual question, actually turning around to see who it was.

It was hard to see at first- this particular section of the alleyway was poorly lit. Slowly, his eyes focused.

Leaning against a cracked and spray-painted brick wall, stood a man, probably in his mid-twenties. He was a tall (slightly taller than Tadashi), pale and intimidating with dark-green hair that fell in wavy, layered waves around his face. He was also wearing a shabby looking white shirt printed with celtic hearts and vines, partly hidden by a worn leather jacket.

He knew what Aunt Cass and Mrs. Matsuda called guys like him. Ruffians. Though he had a nagging suspicion Aunt Cass secretly thought they were cool...

And boy, he sure did look like one... what with all those odd holes in his jeans (they seemed rather forced and too organised, almost like he made them himself), the smudged black eye-liner (or was that just his eyelashes?) and sickly-pale complexion, like he was starved of sunlight.

The man didn't appear to be a threat, though you could never be too careful (Tadashi's exact words, much to his chagrin). Hiro decided to just answer him and get it over with quickly, rather than offending him by walking away.

He had gotten chased for it once, when a couple of guys had asked to take a look at Megabot (he knew they were just going to take it, though).

"...A what?" Hiro replied.

"A light. Like… _a lighter_? With fire." His voice was like a slow and deathly rasp, his tone lazy.

"Don't have one. I don't smoke... sorry!" Hiro said, about to turn away- when the guy offered him a cigarette.

That's right.

Held out the pack and nudged it towards him.

Alarm bells began ringing inside his head.

Was this a joke?

"You look like you need it." The man simply stated, not affected by Hiro's shocked expression.

The latter was appalled. Seriously? Didn't this guy know the penalty for offering a minor cigarettes (four months in jail and a heavy fine)? He thought about what Tadashi would say and—

Oh, _right_.

He was angry at Tadashi, therefore he didn't care about what Tadashi would think! ... Or so he told himself.

Still. He was pretty sure his older brother would explode if he ever caught Hiro smoking at fourteen-years-old. He cringed at the thought of Tadashi and Aunt Cass catching him with a cigarette... the potential outcomes could be disastrous...

... And yet, the more he thought about it, there more he wanted to try.

Why was he still thinking about what Tadashi would do? Tadashi wasn't their Mom! He had no right going around giving him orders, nagging him about curfew and sewing stupid tracking devices (he still couldn't believe it!) into his clothing! Not even Aunt Cass was that strict!

And since Tadashi never thought about his feelings before putting that bug in his hoodie, so why should he give a fuck? It's not like what he was doing would harm Tadashi's precious nerd school.

That's right! Fuck! He said (well thought) 'fuck'! The f-bomb!

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!

Wow.

And so, Hiro came to a decision.

He shrugged (in what he hoped was a cool way), reaching out for the cigarette (fingers shaking ever so slightly) and slid it out of the cardboard packet. He noticed the guy giving him an amused smile, like he knew - well, he probably did - that it was his first time.

It felt like... well, paper. What had he expected? It felt very fragile, and easily bendable, with a cancerous, flaky filling. It also had a little leaf symbol printed on the divider between the white and orange-end, where he would hold it.

"It's a menthol. Feels like ice when you smoke it." The guy informed him, noting Hiro's curious expression.

Before he could respond, there was the sound of footsteps (the sharp clak of heels on cement) and high-pitched giggling, accompanied by a lower voice, belonging to a male. Probably some club-goers heading down to the konbini for more alcohol (he knew it was cheaper when you smuggled them from the outside to avoid extra charges).

Their footsteps stopped... right behind him. Hiro gulped.

He slowly turned around- only to come face to face with a pair wild green eyes and a toothy smile.

He jumped, scooting back as he eyed the person before him, her glaringly-white teeth seeming almost... unnatural.

And boy was she was tall. Incredibly tall... It actually hurt his neck to look up at her. Even taller than Tadashi's friend, Honey Lemon (maybe because her heels were higher). How did she balance in those insane shoes?

"Who's this, Toshi? _New meat_?" The girl asked, her purple eye-shadow sparkling as brightly as her eyes, like a predator examining her next meal. Her choice of words did little to soothe Hiro's nerves (though that was probably the intended effect).

She had dyed ash-purple hair, twisted up into a messy bun with a pair of jewelled, ornamental chopsticks. She allowed a section of hair to cover the left side of her forehead, as a fringe. On her thin, narrow figure, she donned a short red yukata, accompanied by ripped neon-purple stockings and laced, heeled boots. In her right hand, she held a little red embroidered purse, and red paper umbrella was strapped firmly across her back along the obi.

Hiro recognised her as 'Yoko'.

She was one of the fujitas who refereed the bot-fights. The paper umbrella was their trademark symbol.

They were employed by an unknown benefactor, to referee and judge the battles, dishing out the winnings to the victor and collecting a small (10%) interest rate to take back to their boss. They were also the ones who supplied information to the website's programmers on when and where the next bot-fights would take place.

Then Hiro turned his attention to her companion.

It was another teenager (about eighteen?), with blonde hair slicked back and a pair of piercing ice-blue eyes. He was dressed in a black singlet. A tattoo of a snake curled around his left bicep. He had a silver-stud on his eyebrow and another one below his bottom lip. Hiro tried to ignore the menacing way his arms flexed... and tried not to think about how much it would hurt if he ever earned a punch from this particular ruffian.

He was... another familiar face— though Hiro didn't know his name, he recognised this boy as one of the less rowdy spectators who observed the battles.

Toshi's voice drew Hiro back to the situation at hand.

"Nah, just some kid I ran into. He's was all stressed out, so I boned him a stick," Toshi said to Yoko, beckoning her closer. "Give us a light, will ya?"

"What's the point of smoking cigarettes when you don't even have your own lighter?" She snapped, but nevertheless, produced one from her little purse, flicking a flame to life and holding it to his cancer stick.

He sucked in appreciatively- and almost instantly, smoke poured from his nostrils and lips.

The cold wind blew the smoke to Hiro's face, and he forced himself not to wrinkle his nose at the heady smell (a quirk he and his brother shared). He wished he'd worn an extra under-shirt, feeling the cold wind bite his skin through the thin fabric of his jacket. This one wasn't as thick or as comforting as his old one.

Yoko then turned to Hiro, holding the flame it to his face while cupping it with her hand (those pointed nails look like they hurt) so it wouldn't go out.

He hesitated, mind quickly contemplating the pros and cons.

Tadashi had (of course) warned him about the dangers of smoking when Hiro had turned eight, being the excellent and forward-looking brother everyone knew he was. According to him, smoking made you smell really bad, sped up your pulse and caused it to beat irregularly, made your teeth and nails yellow... and if you kept at it for too long, it would give you lung cancer and you could die.

… It was all pretty accurate.

Though it wasn't like he was doing this without taking note of the side effects.

It was just one time anyway, to avoid offending Toshi and his friends.

What could possibly be so hard about resisting a stick of leaves wrapped in paper?

Hiro held his cigarette to the flame and sucked in sharply like how Toshi did.

Big mistake!

He felt the pain almost instantly, his eyes going wide and welling with tears as he choked on the sudden bitterness burning his throat. Fuck, it hurt. It didn't help that it was a menthol either- Hiro couldn't decide whether his throat was on fire or being stabbed with ice. He gagged, resisting the urge to heave as he coughed out plume after plume of smoke.

"Aw, poor thing! It's your first time, isn't it?" The fujita asked mock-sympathetically, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. "It's alright— just breathe in slowly, and hold it for just a few seconds. Try not to cough, it gets worse if you do. Then breathe out! It's that simple!"

"She's right, kid. It's not as complicated as it seems." Toshi said, giving Hiro a lazy smile and a thumbs up. He reminded Hiro a little of Tadashi's other friend... Fred? Or was it Fran...? Bah, whatever. Why did he keep relating everything back to Tadashi?

Tired of their conversation, the blond-haired teen rolled his eyes.

"It's just smoking, not the fucking SATs."

"Whatever, Eve." Toshi replied, amused.

"That is not my name," The boy scowled, and his fists clenched. Toshi merely sneered, blowing out some smoke at the blond's direction.

Hiro momentarily wondered if Toshi had a death wish.

"My name is Ivan. Use it."

"I'mma just keep calling you Eve if you keep acting like a pissy bitch."

"You fucking—"

Hiro turned his attention away from the bickering pair (he didn't want to be dragged into the fight) and back to the cigarette. He felt Yoko's sharp eyes still on him, and shakily held the cigarette to his lips.

There was no going back now...

He did as she said, and sucked in… slightly. He tasted the tobacco briefly on his tongue before the feeling of ice coated his throat. It burned a lot less compared to the first time... so he continued to suck in, and then held it there, feeling the heat cloud in his windpipe.

It wasn't unpleasant... but it wasn't exactly the best feeling in the world either.

After two seconds, he exhaled, eyes wide as he saw the smoke escaping his lips, misting his view of Yoko's face.

Holy mother of megazon.

This was it.

He'd just taken his first official smoke.

He felt a little shiver travel down his spine as he thought about what he had just done. He'd only ever seen people do it in the designated smoking rooms, but he never imagined he'd be one of them.

Yoko's face though— it was like a mother watching her son walk for the very first time. Hiro failed to see what she was so happy about.

"Good job! Welcome to the smoker's community-" She was about to pat him on the head when she paused, an eyebrow raised. "Say, what's your name? Ya look kinda... familiar… can't remember why, though." She knew, Hiro knew she did! She was just trying to-

Ivan turned his attention to Hiro, ending his and Toshi's little spat.

"You're Hiro. Hiro Hamada. Aren't you?" Ivan noted, much to Toshi's shock (he tensed almost immediately), and Yoko's sadistic delight. Ivan turned to Yoko, an accusing finger pointing in the fourteen-year-old's direction.

"He's the guy that's been beating the shit out of everyone from the East rings. What the fuck is he doing here?!"

Toshi snapped out of his lazy reverie, his head snapping around to face Hiro. "You're the Fox?"

Hiro didn't know whether to pee himself in fear, or burst out laughing.

The FOX?! Was that what they were calling him?

Where the heck did they get that?

He struggled to keep a neutral expression, willing himself not to laugh. A chilling thought crossed his mind. What if they wanted to take Megabot... or worse, send him to Yama? He knew Yama's gang was probably on the look-out for him. He had landed their boss in a police station, and though he was sure they had bailed him out, Yama wasn't the kind of man to let a grudge go.

Hiro had to play his cards carefully.

"… You've got me confused with somebody else. I'm new at bot-fighting! I can barely control my bot!" He began to play his innocent persona (oh, was that why they called him fox?).

"You little liar," Yoko said, though her tone was more intrigued than angry. "I've heard about you from Kagura. She was the fujita there when you defeated Mr. Yama of the Yamazaki Yakuza. Said you turned his own bot against him." She sighed wistfully, no doubt wishing she could have been there to see.

Hiro was about to make another excuse when the clump of ash from his cigarette (apparently you were supposed to flick them off after a certain period of time) landed on his forehand.

It stung like pressing his skin against the stove (like he accidentally did last week when he tried to help Aunt Cass make dinner).

He yelped in pain, nearly flinging the whole thing onto the ground.

"Hey, careful. These are my best ones." Toshi warned, smoke trailing from his lips. "Fox or not, don't you go wasting a good joint."

"Sorry." Hiro shrugged, taking another puff, much to his own surprise. He had done it without thinking.

He sucked in again, watching Yoko smile with pride... and tried to ignore Ivan's suspicious glare. The fact that his eyes were unnaturally blue didn't help any. Toshi, on the other hand, was once again fading back into his lazy attitude, the shock of Hiro being the fox (he still found it incredibly hilarious) wearing off.

A comfortable silence fell upon their little group.

Hiro could even hear the traffic coming from the main street, a few blocks away.

That reminded him.

He had to get home, and soon (before Tadashi or Aunt Cass found his bed empty and called the police)!

It was then when Ivan decided to voice his frustration.

"Why are you here?" Ivan finally asked, breaking the silence. Hiro blinked in surprise, coughing on his smoke. He still wasn't completely used to the feeling.

"I... came here for a bot-fight? Duh." Was his intelligent and dangerously sarcastic reply. Hiro began to wonder if Toshi's reckless indifference was contagious. Ivan narrowed his eyes, stepping towards Hiro menacingly.

The latter stepped back in reflex, holding the cigarette tight between his fingers and crushing it slightly.

Yoko watched with obvious interest while Toshi continued to smoke, swiftly finishing his cigarette and flicking it to a wall where it exploded into a million sparks. Hiro would have thought it pretty if he hadn't been trying to edge away from Ivan's approaching muscles- uh, person.

The cold hardness of the brick wall greeted Hiro's back.

Ivan had him cornered.

And Yoko and Toshi didn't look like they were going to intervene, either. He didn't know if it meant they knew Ivan wouldn't hit him or they would simply be satisfied to watch. You just couldn't be sure with these people.

"Do not play coy with me, fox," Ivan warned. "I'm not aware of your true intentions, but if you try anything funny-"

The unspoken threat was left hanging in the air. Hiro swallowed... hard.

Tired of Ivan's paranoia, Yoko decided to cut in.

"Relax, blondie," Yoko snapped, though keeping her voice a light-hearted, friendly tone. "He's not up to anything. My sisters would have informed me by now if he was. We keep tabs on everyone. Foxie here is probably just in it for the extra payment!" She deducted, gave him a little wink.

Hiro didn't know whether to be grateful or afraid. Payment? What extra payment?!

"Whatever." Ivan spat, lips twisted into a sneer. He eyed Hiro up and down before stepping back, slicking his hair back cooly with his hand. "We'll see you around... Hiro."

Ivan turned and left, with Yoko in tow, her high-heeled bots once again abusing the already damaged pavement. Toshi watched them leave and sighed, nudging himself up and off the wall to follow.

"... Well, that was fun. Look, kid... if you ever feel like it, you know where to find us." Toshi said, ruffling Hiro's hair as he passed him. "I got a soft spot for kids like you, so don't sweat it."

Then he trailed after the duo, already pulling another cancer stick from his pack, harassing Yoko for another light.

Hiro watched them leave, and then looked down at the cigarette in his fingers, still lit.

He could throw it away now.

They weren't looking.

... But why waste a cigarette?

Hiro held the stick to his lips and took another puff.

And another.

And another...

He blew the smoke upwards, marvelling at how it curled and twisted in the cold night air, almost like it was dancing. After smoking it to the line, he flicked it towards the wall like Toshi did to his.

It exploded in a million sparks, like a firework.

Hiro turned, and left for home.

* * *

Back at the Lucky Cat Café, while Aunt Cass and Mochi lay asleep in her bed (they were like logs... dead to the world and rather heavy), Tadashi Hamada paced back and forth amongst the furniture like a man possessed. His cap was off, and his fingers were clawing at his face and neck.

Then he halted in his steps, slamming his fists onto the counter-top.

Where was Hiro?! Tadashi thought to himself, growling in frustration.

It was well past midnight- Hiro had never been out this late... Wait, scratch that, he had.

But... he had always worn his jacket.

The hoodie Tadashi had so expertly sewn a GPS tracking device into, thus causing his little brother to explode and throw a major tantrum... Tadashi then decided to go downstairs to cool off and stuff his face with extra-hot hot wings (he still felt the burn).

He regretted that. Clearly, leaving Hiro alone after a fight as intense as that was a very very bad idea.

He knew Hiro wouldn't come down and apologise. Wasabi's tip on reverse psychology hadn't (and would never) worked. Hiro was far too smart to fall for something as simple as that, and much to prideful to admit his was wrong without some gentle prompting.

So why had he done it?

Leaving his brother alone for hours in his room was a terrible move (he couldn't help but rethink again and again how it could have all gone differently)- especially since he got roped into helping Aunt Cass downstairs during the evening rush hour. Amidst the chaos of dealing with cranky night-shift workers, sleep-deprived college students and bossy hipsters, Hiro had managed to sneak out, undetected.

He chose not to inform Aunt Cass. She had been upset enough when they had been thrown in that holding cell (thank god it was only temporary, he didn't know what Professor Callaghan and his friends would say if they found out he'd been thrown in jail).

Tadashi was pretty sure he was on the verge of heading out and hunting his little brother down himself. He had to. The kind of trouble a fourteen-year-old boy as adorable (and as arrogant) his brother could get into...

He heard the front door creak open.

And the quick patter of light footsteps as they struggled to escape his brother's notice-

Too slow!

Tadashi turned around, his athletic reflexes kicking in, and tackled his little brother to the ground.

"Where have you been?!" Tadashi hissed through his clenched jaw, his arms wrapped tight around his little brother. Hiro was wearing a different, dark-grey hoodie. Tadashi wondered what happened to the old one (he had purchased it for Hiro last year). He looked fine, for the most part.

The elder brother felt his singed nerves slowly cool, finally assured that Hiro was safe.

"None of your business!" Hiro snapped, somehow managing kicking Tadashi in the shin. He gasped in pain and loosened his grip. Hiro quickly untangled himself from his brother's arms and scooted back, against a table.

"Hiro, please, just stop it! It's late, and I'm tired-"

"Good! So go to sleep!"

"How could I possibly go to sleep knowing you're out there alone on the streets?!" Tadashi exclaimed, his voice cracking. He paused, noticing the way Hiro froze up at his tone, reminding himself to keep his anger in check. It wouldn't help any if he started berating Hiro now... his brother had made that clear that nagging was a surefire way to make Hiro even more stubborn.

Then... he noticed the odd smell.

"... Why do you smell like cheap air-freshener?" Tadashi asked, wrinkling his nose (they shared the same quirk) as he noted the heavy stench on his brother's body. He'd have to remind Aunt Cass to open the windows in the morning because- pheeew did that stink! What company made this crap anyway? Who would possibly buy it?

"I got spritzed by a cleaner chasing me out the toilet," Hiro lied effortlessly. "She didn't want anyone in there while she was cleaning up."

Tadashi nodded, finding it funny (but this wasn't an appropriate time to laugh). He himself had been the victim of cranky sanitary workers back at the university. Though he never thought they'd actually have the guts to attack people.

He'd have to be careful about that old guy back at the SFIT third-floor washrooms...

Tadashi and Hiro glared at each other for a good minute before Hiro sighed. His clothes looked dirty, his eyes tired and his hair was all ruffled (Tadashi knew this only happened after aggressive head-banging, his brother's habit for dealing with stress).

He felt his heart falter.

Had Hiro been ran into some kind of trouble? He needed to talk this out with-

"Look, Tadashi. From now on, just leave me alone. I can handle myself." Hiro said, and before Tadashi could reply, he dashed up the staircase and up to their shared room.

He heard the door slam shut, just like the door to Hiro's heart.

Hiro's words stabbed his own heart like an icy knife. It hurt. Hiro was the only piece left of his precious family- not that he didn't love and appreciate Aunt Cass, but there were happier times... when it had been him, Mom, Dad and little baby Hiro.

And then everything ended in an instant...

Shit, it still hurt thinking about it.

He didn't want Hiro to shut him out. He knew Hiro needed him, just as much as he needed Hiro. They were brothers! Brothers were there for each other.

And while he knew Hiro would be mad if he ever found the tracking device (he was right... Hiro was beyond mad at this point), it was a necessary precaution. Hiro didn't think he'd allow his precious fourteen-year-old brother to go roaming the alleyways of San Fransokyo without having some kind of fail-safe, did he?

He groaned, flopping in an armchair by the window. They really needed to discuss Hiro's curfew and nightly ventures...

... The older Hamada drifted off to sleep almost instantly, his head slumping against the armrest. It didn't matter that he wasn't in a proper position to fall asleep; knowing that Hiro was safe and finally home was enough to ease his over-worked mind.

* * *

Hiro flopped onto his bed- freshly showered, thankful that the foul smelling air-freshener he'd found in the trash was finally off his skin.

He'd remembered to cover the obvious stench of cigarettes rolling in waves off him thanks to a bossy old lady he had encountered on the late train back home. She had started nagging him about 'bad habits' and how youth these days no longer had respect for law and blah blah blah.

Then luckily, on the final walk back he had found a dumpster. He then proceeded to dig around in it (gross) and found a scented-spray, practically misting himself in it in desperation.

It was foul, it was cheap... but it worked though.

Thank god.

He tried not to think about the heartbroken look on Tadashi's face before he dashed back to their room. Was he still downstairs, stress eating like Aunt Cass did? Hiro didn't know... neither did he want to find out.

The genius was exhausted. The emotional stress he had gone through in that single night finally taking a toll on his body. He slowly drifted off to dreamland, just like his brother.

And as the night slowly passed, the boy's computer pinged...

* * *

**NEW MESSAGE (1).**


	2. Just One Sip

Birds chirped happily, as the morning rush hour slowly faded. The scent of freshly made coffee wafted through the windows, from the lively café up into the attic. Sunlight slipped through the blinds, giving the room a gentle, ethereal glow as the youngest Hamada stirred.

He keened softly, rolling over and yanking the duvet over his head, his body curled up in a fetal position. He sighed contentedly, burying his nose into the fresh, crisp sheets of the mattress.

He didn't ever want to get up.

Though there was something nagging at him at the back of his mind— and the unpleasant, bitter tinge of staleness on his tongue. The young boy coughed, wondering if he had somehow fallen ill— his throat felt like sandpaper, but more moist.

Only then did the events of the previous night grace his memory. He sighed, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes.

He'd smoked a _cigarette_.

An actual cigarette— he'd sucked in the toxic poison and had absorbed the nicotine into his bloodstream.

Prior to his experience the previous night, the only contact Hiro ever had with any form of smoking was seeing cigarette boxes along the counter in the konbini or observing the older kids in High School smoke them along the back fence.

It was an odd feeling— a feeling of somewhat self-accomplishment (ridiculous, but he couldn't push away this feeling of somehow being more… experienced) and yet guilt at his actions.

He pinched himself on the forearm, the brief twinge of pain confirming that this wasn't a dream. As for the aforementioned smoking; the stench of tobacco that lingered on his right index and middle finger was proof in itself (something that would take a lot of citrus and soap to remove).

Overcome by the need to scrub his hands clean, he unwillingly debated against himself to get up. It wouldn't bode well if Tadashi or Aunt Cass were to watch a whiff of it.

As patient and caring as they were, naïve they were not. Although, he didn't really have much to worry about after last night.

He wasn't going back there anytime soon… probably never.

Tossing the covers away from his petite body, Hiro stretched his arms high above his head and wriggled his toes, grunting in satisfaction at the sweet stretch of unworked muscles.

Hiro was famished. Specifically, he was craving for some of his Aunt's Al Capone doughnuts… though he highly doubted she would allow him such sweet things first thing in the morning (that never stopped him from getting some, though).

He decided to take a quick shower, change and head downstairs.

As he sat up, he noticing the empty bed across the room, bedsheets free of a single wrinkle and pillows fluffed to perfection. It was to be expected of Tadashi— being the exceptional role-model and excellent student everyone thought (and knew) he was, Tadashi took the phrase '_the early bird gets the worm_' way too seriously.

The only time Hiro ever saw his brother asleep in his bed was when he worked late to develop and work on his projects, or when Tadashi had pulled an all-nighter and was still conked out (rare).

Grabbing a soft, green towel and some fresh clothes (a simple pair of cargo pants and a purple, long-sleeved shirt), he walked across their attic bedroom (the coldness of the floorboards pinching his bare feet), and approached the bathroom door.

It was shut, and he could hear the water-heater humming.

Being half-conscious, Hiro ignored that fact and grabbed the brass knob tightly in his right hand, twisting it and nudging the door open—

Coming face-to-face with Tadashi, who dropped his towel in surprise.

Tadashi was naked.

.

.

.

_Naked._

Big brother. NAKED. **_NAKED!?_**

There was a brief pause as Hiro's morning brain (he was clearly nothing like his brother in terms of peak performance times, he was more of a night worker) struggled to process what he was looking at.

A sharp, collaborative scream pierced through what used to be the tranquil peace of an early spring morning. Tadashi glared as he sharply flicked his towel toward's Hiro's direction.

"HIRO!" He yelled, cheeks dusted a deep shade of vermillion. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?!"

The younger brother screeched in frustration, quickly sprinting to the sink and grabbing his toothbrush— but in his haste, knocked it towards his brother's feet.

He turned and crouched low, preparing to grab it and then high-tail the heck outta there, but froze as he noticed something odd. H is gaze slowly trailed upwards along Tadashi's muscular calves towards his even more muscular thighs and—

Wow.

Just, wow.

Tadashi… had grown.

_A lot._

It took him a good two seconds before he finally caught himself, jerking back and nearly bashing his head against the tub. His face flamed red, and he broke out in cold sweat, looking everywhere but at his brother.

Where the hell had he been looking?!

He yelled a quick _idiot!_ at Tadashi, cringing at how girly his voice sounded, then ran out, his toothbrush clutched so tightly in his hand he thought it might snap.

* * *

He slammed the door to Aunt Cass's private bathroom shut, letting his things fall to the floor and leaned over the sink, panting hard.

Did he seriously just check out his brother's penis? Oh god, it sounded so wrong even just voicing it in his mind. What would Tadashi do? Shy away and act awkward and stiff around him for a week?

That happened the last time Tadashi walked in on Hiro doing Hulk poses in the mirror... butt-naked. He had been eight! The Hulk had gotten Hiro curious about the human anatomy and if muscles really could swell to that height. It wasn't his fault Tadashi picked a bad time to offer him gummy bears!

No wait, wrong, bad train of thought!

Hiro shoved away those embarrassing memories form his mind.

The brothers hadn't seen each other naked since Hiro was six, and upon his seventh birthday, he declared himself 'too mature' to take baths with his onii-chan (he remembered the devastated look on Tadashi's face and Aunt Cass' amused grin when he had announced it).

No wonder Tadashi had gotten so big— it had been seven years since the last time he'd seen his brother naked.

And almost immediately, his thoughts went back to the sight of his onii-chan's huge penis. Dick. Cock. Ochinchin. No, stop it! Hiro slapped his cheeks with both hands, letting out a muffled screech of frustration through grit teeth.

He was not thinking about his brother's cock, he thought wilfully, moving to grab his toothbrush and get that damn taste off his tongue already—

Then he paused, feeling something odd. And looked down.

There was a little tent in his pants, where Hiro Jr. stood proud and tall, for the first time in his fourteen-years.

_**Fuck.**_

* * *

Tadashi sighed, towelling himself off as quickly as possible.

He enjoyed the feel of the fluffy and warm towel (Aunt Cass had just done a fresh round of laundry) and scrubbed his face dry, being sure to clean behind his ears.

Catching his reflection in the mirror, the college student smiled, liking the payoff of following a healthy diet, his gym-sessions and karate training paying off. He'd been teased back in middle-school for having a shrimpy body and ears too big for his head, but not anymore.

Speaking of bodies...

The robotics student thought back to what happened earlier with Hiro. And groaned, slapping himself on the forehead, shaking his head in disbelief. That was not how he intended for the morning to play out.

He had planned to go downstairs, sneak up a few Al Capone doughnuts (his brother loved those sweet, sticky health hazards for breakfast) with a cup of tea and greet his baby bro with a smile. He'd hoped to patch things up and talk to Hiro about his disappearing habits but now…

He'd noticed Hiro staring at his, uh— southern regions earlier. Was he shocked at the difference in their sizes? Or simply surprised to see pubic hair? Was it was time to give Hiro the talk?

Yikes. He swallowed, not liking the thought of that. He remembered how awkward it had been when Aunt Cass had attempted to tell him about the workings of a man and a woman, together, wrestling and therefore producing a little baby-

Oh, he was not going back there.

Maybe giving Hiro some space would do them both good. Let him have his time alone to cool down.

Tadashi slipped on a pair of jeans and a beige T-shirt, quickly blow-drying his hair and giving his reflection a big, toothy smile (to check for anything stuck in his teeth. There never was).

"_Hiro_," He called out towards their shared bedroom. "I'm done, Hiro!"

No answer.

He hummed curiously. Was Hiro hiding? Maybe it was best to just leave him alone for now. He tossed his used pyjamas into the clothing hamper and moved towards the staircase leading to downstairs, past Aunt Cass' room—

"…_Ah_…!"

He froze, eyes going wide. They were s o wide, they practically bulged out.

Tadashi turned robotically to the right, staring at the wall where he had heard that sound as though Mochi had suddenly popped out of it singing the national anthem.

Holy _shit_.

Was that... _Hiro_?!

A hand automatically flew up to cover his mouth in scandalised shock. Holy shit, he did not hear what he just think he did—

Then came a series of muffled cries, a voice weak with pleasure… coming from the Aunt Cass' bathroom.

The bathroom that was separated by a wall of plaster and old floral wallpaper from seventy years ago, definitely not soundproof.

He slunk against the wall and onto the floor in horror, thinking of ways to tell Hiro about a young adolescent blooming into manhood (wow, good going brain— even in his mind this all sounded terrible).

His little baby brother was _growing up_. His cute, baby Hiro was growing into an adult, and soon, he wouldn't need his brother for guidance and advice anymore.

Knowing his brother's level of intellect, he'd probably age (mentally) even faster than a regular teenagers, reducing their time together by half... or more.

Hiro would move out, get his own apartment, buy a car, graduate from university (oh yes, he hadn't given up on Hiro yet! He never would!) and eventually, find a nice girl and marry her.

The last part made his heart feel heavy. He dreaded the idea of Hiro dating. Tadashi didn't trust his brother with anyone.

"_Haah_—!" Another pleasured moan pierced through his thoughts like an arrow.

Tadashi scrambled to his feet and practically flew down the stairs, not wanting to intrude on the younger's _'fun-time_' (Fred's words).

* * *

Hiro shuddered, rubbing the tip of his cock slowly, feeling precum slip pass trembling fingers.

Oh, right, because seeing a bunch of guys grip their erect penises and grunt loudly like pigs while tugging on them, as though possessed, had scared the crap out of his nine year old self. He never tried to watch the 'porn' again.

As good as it was, it still felt wet, and very... slimy. Eying the weird, slippery fluid escaping his slit, he bit down on his lower lip, trying (and failing) to contain another moan as his hand jerked his cock forward in a firm, tight grip. It was almost instinctual.

He had tried using two hands, but it seemed as though using one hand kept the motion faster, and less clumsy so his hands wouldn't get in each other's way.

Hiro's hips jerked sharply as his fingers caressed the underside of his cock, his back arching off the wall as his hand began to pump his throbbing erection faster. He used his other hand to fondle his balls, the edge of his palm rubbing against his twitching entrance. His thighs and calves tensed (they were gonna be so sore later) and his toes curled. The burn of aching muscle made the pleasure even more notable.

His tongue lolled out as he panted loudly, his legs spreading wider so as to give his hands easier access. So this was masturbating? It felt so good.

He knew how adults and their sex worked. Masturbating had been scary, sex (both straight and gay) had been... weird. The only thing he found tolerable was the scientific articles on sexual reproduction and the precautions one needed to know before having intercourse.

The internet taught him so much. Though, did Tadashi really think putting up those parental firewall block things would prevent him from learning what he wanted to know? Another annoyingly, overprotective move by his brother.

Stupid, stupid Tadashi.

And yet here he was, 'jerking off' to the memory of his brother's well-endowed family jewels (and stick). The sight of the thick, long and flaccid penis had made him horny, and here he was about to have the first orgasm in his young life.

He thought about what Tadashi's cock would look like erected, big and throbbing, ready to fill squirt 'ejaculation' into his anus as he gripped his thighs, pounding into his tight entrance while hitting this 'prostrate' thing straight on... ha! Like that would-

"... _AH_!"

Hiro cried out as he felt something twist and burst inside him — watching through his teary eyes, glazed over from pleasure — as a translucent, white liquid spurted out from the tip of his dick, coating his tanned skin with white, even more sticky droplets.

His hips thrusted weakly throughout the orgasm into his hand, a weak mewl escaping his parted lips as his head lolled back. He had never imagined it to feel this good. His mind was completely relaxed, along with the rest of his body.

He was in a state of pure euphoria... at least until the feeling faded away, bringing him back to reality.

Exhaling, he collapsed sideways onto the cold, tiled floor. His body ached, and he felt sweaty and sticky. Most uncomfortable of all was the guilt he felt at what- who exactly he'd been fantasising about. Oh, and surprise! He was... 'gay'?

Was he? He didn't know. Did jerking off to the thought of your siblings cock mean you were gay? He remembered there was another definition for this... there were loads of labels for differently sexually orientated people, though he never expected himself to have to care, always thinking that he had been straight.

Come to think of it... seeing the web-advertisements of naked girls dancing (usually on the bot-fighting sites) had never turned him on... _GAH_! He didn't wanna deal with this in the morning!

Not even lunch time and his whole life had been flipped outside down, making him afraid and unsure.

Hiro was able to conclude one thing, though.

"... I hate my life."

* * *

After taking his shower and carefully removing all the evidence of what might have conspired in the bathroom (he apologised to Aunt Cass in his heart and vowed to find a better location for future hormonal occasions) and tip-toed down the stairs, being as quiet as humanly possible.

He felt so dirty after what happened. Still couldn't believe what he'd just done. Scrubbing himself twice as much as usual in the shower hadn't helped any, it just resulted in his skin being tinged red from all that effort.

He didn't know much about... incest (he decided he hated that word), just that it was unnatural and resulted in mutated babies and broken families.

Remembering a rumour he'd heard about Tanya Williams (a senior, back in his old high school) getting pregnant with her father's baby, he shuddered. The poor girl had mysteriously disappeared from all her classes; some of her friends had said she'd been sent to a girl's home while her father was sent to court for raping a minor.

No, he couldn't— he wouldn't risk breaking their little family apart.

But why worry? Hiro tried to reason with his overly guilty brain. This was just a phase. It's not like Tadashi or Aunt Cass would ever find out. He'd just been at the wrong place at the wrong time when his hormones had decided to act up (Hiro conveniently ignored the fact that he had only gotten the erection after seeing Tadashi naked), these stupid, conflicting feelings would soon pass.

He just needed to find another outlet.

"Oh, sweetie, you guys look so _cute_ together!" Aunt Cass shrieked, her hair as wild as she felt, yanking her nephew's arm so he could stand next to Kanoko Stewart (a classmate and project partner of his at school). She was very pretty, with short, dyed ash-brown hair and large, brown eyes. Kanoko was also mixed-blood, and was very tall and smart. She was rather mysterious... nobody knew anything about her except for her love of kimono dresses (she liked to wear short, lolita-styled kimonos) and that she was rich (she had a driver send and fetch her from school every day).

Apparently getting Kanoko to meet him at the café so they could go over some last-minute changes to their project proposal had been a mistake. A huge mistake. He'd completely forgotten about Aunt Cass and her tendency to embarrass (unintentionally, but still) Tadashi during social get-togethers. The last time had been during beat-poetry night when one of Tadashi's teachers had shown up and Aunt Cass had proceeded to show her every single baby picture she could dig out.

How the heck were they supposed to get any work done with Aunt Cass leaning over them and taking pictures/cooing at them every two minutes?

Well, they could always leave.

"_Uh, sorry about this, Kanoko-chan_." He said in fluent Japanese, giving her a sheepish smile. They were both fluent in it (it helped when half the signs in San Fransokyo were in Japanese!), and Tadashi took every opportunity he had to practice the language his parents had spoke so he wouldn't get rusty. In a way, it was like a connection to them. "_Would you like to head somewhere else to finish this_?"

"_No, it's fine_," She assured him, giving him a kind smile. "_We'll be done in about an hour anyway. No need to trouble yourself_."

He smiled back.

Maybe it would be a good idea to continue Hiro's Japanese lessons? He couldn't help but wonder. Tadashi nearly snorted at himself, he was way too concerned with Hiro's upbringing (he admitted unwillingly).

They both turned back to their respective laptops, enjoying the tea Aunt Cass had prepared (while ignoring her giggling).

* * *

Oh.

Hiro stared at the couple, stared at the way Tadashi said something in Japanese (something Tadashi was taught personally by their deceased parents) and the way that they smiled at each other.

_Oh._

He retreated back up the stairs to his room, appetite lost.

* * *

**NEW MESSAGE (1)  
****TO: MEGABOT_MASTER**

**TONIGHT,  
****HANABI-CHAN'S KARAOKE LOUNGE,  
****10PM SHARP**

**COME ALONE.**

* * *

Another night, out in the shady backalleys of San Fransokyo. The place was as dingy and unpleasant as ever, and this time he'd been unfortunate enough to witness a drunk man throw up his dinner all over the sidewalk. Hiro gagged, willing the disgusting image out of his head.

At least this time, he was 80% sure Tadashi wouldn't notice he had snuck out. He patted himself on the back for managing to out-ninja his brother (on rare occasions, he was careful enough to evade Tadashi's otouto sensors).

He'd been extra careful to feign sleep, breathing in and out as evenly as possible, even shifting a bit to replicate the odd sleeping positions Tadashi commented he made sometimes when tired.

And only after did he hear his brother head to the garage (no doubt to work on his robotics homework; he wouldn't be done till the wee hours in the morning and he'd probably fall asleep on the garage's desk or whatever) did he sneak out of bed, slip on his new hoodie and shoes, then shifted the pillows so they looked like his silhouette, laying on his side.

Finally, he'd dragged a sleepy Mochi and placed him under the covers (it hadn't been easy, he though sourly as he eyed the scratch marks on his left arm) so when Mochi breathed, it would look like he was still sound asleep, breathing evenly.

Mission accomplished!

The thought passed as the wind bit into the skin on his cheeks. He shuddered, tugging his jacket tighter around his body. Wherever he was instructed to go had better have a heater. It was much colder than it had been the previous night.

Turning left, he glanced at the neon-lit signs across the small shop-houses, all closed. Only a few windows remained lit, and the doors leading to the basement shops were open. He noticed the words '花火ちゃんのカラオケ屋' lit by green fluorescent lights pointing to a steep staircase leading down, and sighed in relief.

He'd found it.

* * *

Hiro was greeted by a pat on the head from Toshi, an excited hug from Yoko and a scowl from Ivan. The four of them had been escorted by a scowling woman in a tight black dress towards the back— the VIP lounge.

The sad ballad of poor singing from the other customers (through the almost soundproof walls) grated on Hiro's nerves. He hoped none of his 'new friends' would force him to sing. He was terrible at it.

It was a small, old-fashioned lounge, the walls completely bare (decorated slightly with some graffiti scribbled with permanent marker) and several, bare lightbulbs hung from the ceiling, giving the room a warm, gentle glow. There was a small, make-shift bar in the corner (a cart, actually), with a bottles of alcohol displayed proudly, and a bartender (was he?) manning the booth.

Despite it being a karaoke place, nobody was singing. Instead, old 30s American jazz music played softly in the background, giving the place a sort of classy feel (even though it was anything but). The floor was cement, furnished with a few separate and rattly tables, big plush sofas and smelled like alcohol and detergent.

The place was scattered with a few people (only elite bot-fighters, dealers and experts were allowed in here according to Yoko). Despite the surplus of space available, they were mostly all crammed around one table, talking - more like yelling - loudly.

To his dismay, that was where he was dragged to, and he was forced onto the cough in-between Toshi and a friendly-looking Indian man with a prominent beard. They were greeted as the approached the table, some of them throwing curious glances in Hiro's direction but not bothering to question them.

Hiro felt awkward.

Out of place.

He took a cigarette offered to him by Toshi (hands barely trembling this time, it seemed pre-programmed, almost) and lit it up slowly (careful not to suck in too fast this time) and inhaled, blowing out a plume of smoke in what he hoped was a cool way, and leaned back into the cushion, trying to get comfortable.

He didn't know anybody here nor did he recognise their faces (he'd only started bot-fighting in the West the previous night, after all)... though they all seemed to have heard of him after Yoko proudly informed them using his bot-fighting title ("The fox? You're kidding right? He's only a kid!").

But beyond that, nobody seemed interesting in conversing with him. This sucked. Hiro had come, thinking that they would bring him to some of the higher-ranking, exclusive bot-fights so he could blow off steam, not smoke and waste time sitting her feeling awkward around people he didn't care to know.

Yeah, he should probably just leave.

He smoked the cigarette to the line again (not wanting to be rude to Toshi who had given him a free smoke), pretending to laugh at their crude jokes and finally stubbed out his cigarette, about to declare himself utterly exhausted and leave... when he was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a handsome, brown-haired caucasian male.

The man wore a white button-down shirt under a black vest and a pair of tapered brown pants. He also wore an expensive silver watch accompanied by polished, black dress shoes.

His posh look didn't seem to fit in with the wildly dressed fashionista bunch Hiro was currently sitting with (seriously, one of them had rainbow coloured dip-dyed hair accompanied with overalls with nothing but a pink bra underneath... how was she not freezing?).

"Hey," The man's low and smooth voice greeted, eying the people around the table. A few of the girls giggled and one even gave him a coy wink.

Hiro expected the guy to start joining in the conversation and (like the others) ignore him completely- but to Hiro's complete and utter surprise, he held out a glass in his direction, filled with a cloudy, white liquid that looked like liquid smoke.

"Juice?" He offered, giving Hiro a charming smile.

"He's fourteen." Toshi remarked, raising his eyebrows, unimpressed, at the unnamed man. The latter shrugged, still holding the drink still in Hiro's face. Across the table, Yoko laughed loudly, a high-pitched, grating laugh that made Hiro tense, afraid for his safety. "Says the loser who offered him a cigarette!"

Hiro ignored their casual teasing, looking at the drink curiously.

"What's in it?" He asked, despite the logical part of his mind telling him to just ignore the guy.

"Oh, mostly sprite," He said, giving Hiro a little wink. "And maybe a little vodka."

"Just a _little_, Benny?" The Indian man asked, arms crossed. Yoko just continued cackling with laughter. "Too _kawaii_ for your own good, Hiro~!" She sang, slinging an arm around her _fujita_ friend. He narrowed his eyes. He knew what that meant! He wasn't cute, he was handsome (Aunt Cass always said so).

The bot-fighter flinched as the shot glass was shoved closer to his face. It seemed as though this stranger wasn't going to take no for an answer. By now, Hiro would have unleashed the wrath of Megabot on him, but he didn't want to risk starting a fight with so many dangerous, unknown individuals closed in a room with him.

He noticed Toshi glancing in his direction- he knew that look. The same worried (and disappointed) look Tadashi gave him whenever Hiro returned home after a bot-fight, on the occasion Tadashi hadn't been quick enough to check the GPS tracker or had been preoccupied with work to notice his little brother was missing (or was it the stupid tracker telling his brother he was safe, just up to no good?).

Hiro pushed those irritating thoughts out of his mind, not wanting his mood to be ruined.

"C'mon, Hiro-kun. Live a little!" Benny said, gently pressing the cool glass against his soft, trembling lips. As he inhaled, he smelled it. The scent of alcohol mixed with the sweet in the air didn't repulse him, but it didn't make him feel like drinking it either (just like the cigarettes).

Tadashi's face popped into his head again, the look of disappointment clearer than ever. And then the image of him with his new girlfriend; the girlfriend he hadn't bothered to tell Hiro about.

"Sure," Hiro said, taking the glass from Benny, their fingers brushing intentionally as he slid it into his smaller hand. "Why not?"

He downed it in one gulp.

* * *

As a man with a reputation and a huge libido, Benny felt like having a fuck.

Maybe a boy, this time.

Sharp blue eyes scanned the room as he looked for any potential targets.

His gaze lingered on a short, adorable teenage boy.

Benny smiled as he eyed the kid Toshi and Yoko brought along (he knew Ivan, being the angry, distrustful shit he was, couldn't have wanted him around). He'd heard from an acquaintance that younger teens generally felt better, and were easier to manipulate.

The brunet licked his lips as he eyed the kid's big, doe-like eyes, petite nose and— holy shit was that a tooth-gap? He had a pretty face, too. Asian… Japanese, from the looks of it. Though there was a distinct shade of hazel in those eyes and the flushed, cream-coloured skin that hinted of mixed blood. Yum.

"Give me a ghost bomb," He whispered to Manny (his parter-in-crime, who was in charge of serving the alcohol tonight). Waiting patiently while Manny fixed the drink, he sucked in his blunt sharply and allowed the drug to numb his senses, letting a content sigh as he felt his muscles relax. Taking a hit always made flirting a lot easier. It was like his nerves buzzed out.

Ha, buzzed.

Everything seemed brighter, less dull— and Benny laughed, ready to hit it up with the kid.

Taking the glass from Manny, he approached their little table, dodging a few people (mostly ladies) who he didn't exactly feel like entertaining. He was famous for being amazing in bed, and sometimes his reputation would land him in trouble. But not tonight- tonight would be fun.

He greeted them, and charmingly offered the kid a drink.

Little Hiro (what a cute name) had been hesitant at first, looking away and shying from his strong advances. Toshi looked at him with lazy displeasure, and Benny was about to get ready to flinch away (he knew the green-haired man liked to fling lit cigarettes at people he found irritating), when the kid had coyly took the glass from his hand, downing the whole thing in one gulp.

Woah. This kid had some serious balls... that, or he didn't understand how alcohol worked.

"Plenty more where that came from," Benny said, gently taking Hiro's hand and leading him towards the back of the room, across from Manny. He sat down, his mind buzzing his pleasure, making him feel as though he'd just sunk on fluffy cloud.

Hiro had blinked, asking if he was supposed to grab a chair. No problem. He merely hoisted Hiro onto his lap, chuckling at the boy's startled squeak. He was warm and snug against his body. A little skinny than what he usually preferred, though... it didn't seem to be a problem. Benny swallowed as felt Hiro adjust himself in his lap, that tight ass doing wonders to his (once) flaccid cock, and snapped his fingers.

Manny appeared, two new shot glasses in hand, a little, jealous leer on his face.

"You owe me, B." He hissed, giving Hiro a hungry once-over.

"Yeah, yeah, get outta' here." He shoed Manny away with a flick of his middle-finger after handing Hiro the drink. The kid was tense. Very tense. He could tell that Hiro had no sexual experience whatsoever, and that made the thought of fucking him even more appealing. He'd make the kid feel things he'd never felt before, fuck him into oblivion and make him scream in orgasm for the first time in his young life.

He loved first times.

"Here, beautiful," He said, whispering hotly in Hiro's ear, giving the shell a lick and a gentle (yet firm) nip with his teeth, enjoying the little gasp that escaped from Hiro. "Enjoy."

They drank in companionable silence, listening to the soft background music and the loud, rowdy laughter and swearing coming from Toshi's table. He felt Hiro relax (slowly), and smiled to himself. It was a very peaceful feeling, sitting here with a cute boy in his lap while he was surrounded by (mostly) like-minded friends.

Hiro surprised him by initiating a conversation.

"So… Benny, are you a bot-fighter too?"

"Me? Good god, no. I just serve the poison... though I bet sometimes." Seeing Hiro's confused look, he jingled the ice in his drink. "I'm a bartender."

"Oh!" Was Hiro's intelligent (and cute) response. "That makes sense." He remarked, eying Benny's clothing again. The latter smirked and pressed Hiro down so he was laying comfortably on his chest, feeling pleased with himself as he saw the red that coloured Hiro's cheeks.

Benny held in a snort. This kid was naïve… though in a good way for a virgin, he supposed. What was a kid like this doing all the way down here? This was where society's trash came out to play. The forgotten, the misfits, the people who wanted more out of life than being ordinary citizens in the fast-moving world. Nobody wanted to be forgotten, so they chose to live wild, live free.

That meant breaking laws and moral values, but none of them really cared, especially not he.

Right now, all he cared about was getting Hiro's sweet ass nice and tight around his cock, moaning and writhing under him as they fucked into next morning.

He felt his libido rise at the mere thought. The fact that Hiro was sitting on his flaccid cock wasn't helping any, either- the boy tensed up again almost immediately as he realised what exactly had been poking at his butt.

"_Hiro_," He said, his voice smooth as silk, setting down his drink and wrapping his toned arms around the smaller's waist. The bot-fighter was tense— so tense he seemed frozen solid.

Benny clicked his tongue. They needed to fix that.

He kissed the nape of Hiro's neck, slowly kissing a soft trail of fluttery, teasing kisses down to the collar of his shirt. His hands worked magic on the boy's nerves, rubbing the boy's chest in soft, slow circles as the other maintained a firm hold on Hiro's trembling waist.

Slowly, he felt Hiro relax, leaning into his touch.

* * *

He was _touching_ him.

Touching him in ways Hiro hadn't dreamed he'd be touched until a few hours ago. This was all moving so fast- even his highly intellectual brain struggled to catch up. There was a complete stranger fondling him in some ratty old karaoke lounge in front of a bunch of delinquent bot-fighters. Wow. It sounded insane- like something he'd never in a million years do... but here he was, doing it anyway.

It did feel rather odd, though. Ticklish, almost. Most of the body-contact he'd received when were hugs from Aunt Cass and casual, familial touches from Tadashi. Oh, and Mochi liked to rub against his legs sometimes when he wanted affection.

He realised it could be the alcohol blurring his thought process. He had ingested two glasses, and he was pretty sure vodka was a strong alcoholic drink not suitable for beginners. But he couldn't bring himself to care, and gasped sharply as he felt Benny lick and suck on his right earlobe. So good...!

What if it were Tadashi touching him like this?

Tadashi, raining kisses on his skin and holding him like he was the world's most priceless jewel. Tadashi grinding up into his ass, whispering dirty things into his ear, how he was going to feel so fucking good and love that feel of cock up his ass.

It wouldn't hurt to play pretend.

* * *

Benny wasn't expecting this from a male, inexperienced, fourteen-year-old virgin, but to his complete and utter surprise (this kid was full of surprises), it happened. Hiro turned around and joined their lips willingly. Firm, yet charmingly shy against his more skilled ones.

He smiled into the kiss - it was always more fun when his partners initiated things - and took over with ease.

The soft, wet sounds of their lips rang in their ears as the intense make-out session slowly got more and more heated. Their lips massaged against each other's, every now and then their tongues peeked out to brush against each other.

It was a battle to see who would cave first.

* * *

Hiro did, parting his bruised lips and allowing the older man to gently flip him around and tug him so they were chest-to-chest, moaning softly as his mouth was utterly ravaged by this stranger.

No, _no._

Not a stranger, his drunk mind quipped in (was he drunk? He didn't know, didn't care).

Tadashi.

_Tadashi_...

Tadashi was holding him. His brother was kissing him. Tadashi's tongue brushed against his own intimately, a large hand gently brushing against the bottom of his jaw, titling his head for easier access. Tadashi's tongue rubbed hotly against the roof of his mouth, and he felt a trail of saliva escape his lips and he moaned, gripping Tadashi's shirt tightly.

He had always found this gross when watching old rom-coms with Aunt Cass, but now…

Hiro's toes curled in pleasure as he felt Tadashi grind up into his ass, desperate and just as horny as he was. Was this a dream? Was Tadashi finally going to make love to him? He wanted this... so much.

Hiro laughed softly, his eyes closed in hazy pleasure and wrapped his arms around Tadashi's neck and broader shoulders (had Tadashi grown? He felt different).

* * *

The lounge had gone slightly quieter, and Benny knew they were being watched.

Couldn't bring himself to care, though, not with this sexy, horny young teen in his lap, so willing and eager. He enjoyed the way Hiro clung tightly to his neck, and that little tinkling laugh that escaped his swollen lips.

Public displays of affection were nothing new around here— stuffing a bunch of antsy teenagers and experienced adults in the same vicinity, both with a penchant for danger and adrenaline, often resulted in hook-ups and sexual advances. They were prohibited from having sex in the lounge though... he'd have to bring Hiro back to his apartment...

... Though it was getting pretty hard to tear away from Hiro's cute little moans and the ass that was grinding back down on his erect cock.

Neither of them cared about being watched, their minds buzzed with drink and pleasure to thinking of anything touching each other- more.

_Clak. Clak. Clak._

The last thing Benny Walters remembered was Hiro going limp in his arms, and a sharp, intense pain on his forehead.

* * *

Hiro groaned in pain as he swore ("Stupid, annoying... _fucking_... truck... ugh.") at the loud, overly cheerful music of the ice-cream truck pounding against his throbbing forehead. He wailed as he clutched his pillow against his ears, trying to block out the sound.

So this was a hangover.

Alcohol.

NEVER _EVER_ again.

What the hell happened? The details eluded him, and he twisted onto his side, scrunching his eyebrows as he tried to remember. When he tried to recall how he had gotten home, all he could recall was a... nothing.

The last thing he could remember was-

Oh f_uck_...!

Hiro scrambled onto his hands and knees — regretting it immediately as his vision turned white and faded into fuzzy dots, the blood in his head swirling and making him feel like the earth was spinning.

He remembered the man's touches all too well. They were still fresh on his skin, making him shiver in fear at how far-gone he had been to get completely besotted with pleasure. Had he slept with Benny? He shifted his ass, nearly crying in relief as he felt no pain or soreness, which would have been a sure indication of having lost his virginity (thank you, internet).

Then another chilling thought penetrated (ooh, bad choice of words) his mind.

He'd been fantasising about Tadashi while making out with a complete stranger. His older brother, who he had grew up with. His best friend, role-model and the most important in his life besides Aunt Cass, despite his irritating, over-protective nature. Hiro felt the guilt hit him in waves as he remembered how poorly he'd been treating Tadashi.

No wonder Tadashi had gotten a girlfriend. He deserved it. Tadashi's life didn't revolve around him, after all. His brother had his own life, his own future to worry about. They were going to grow up, and move out, grow apart eventually...

The thought made him sick.

Reaching for his pillow (ready to scream into it, good thing Tadashi wasn't in the room), he noticed something odd.

Something yellow caught his eye. A square, yellow piece of paper stuck subtly onto his bed-post, partially hidden by his pillow. A note. Left behind by the person who had somehow, magically whisked him away from the west side of San Fransokyo back to this humble little establishment he called home.

He swallowed, leaning closer, almost afraid to read what was on it.

* * *

**Don't take drinks from strangers if you can't handle it! You horny little shit.**

**\- Yoko**

* * *

Hiro groaned and flopped back onto his bed, crushing the note into a little ball and flicking it into the dustbin with practiced ease. What time has she brought him home? Had she really managed to sneak him back in without anyone noticing? Were _fujitas_ trained in the art of _ninjitsu_ as well?

How did she even know where he lived? Just- _argh_! Forget it!

_Fujitas_ had their ways, after all. He decided not to question it, grimacing as the music continued to drill his patience. He had half a mind to throw something down at the truck... maybe Tadashi's snowboard.

The sound of quick, hurried footsteps could be heard heading towards the room door. Hiro quickly pulled the covers over his (holy mother of megazon, had she changed him back into his pajamas as well?!) body and pretended to be asleep.

"Good afternoon, knucklehead!" Tadashi sang loudly, and Hiro resisted the urge to throw something (heavy) at his brother's head. He didn't go prancing and singing about when his brother had gotten drunk after prom! Not that Tadashi knew he was hungover... but still.

He had to control his expression, though. Hiro couldn't risk Tadashi suspecting what he had been doing the previous night. The idea of Tadashi finding out he'd been - to put it bluntly - making out and coming extremely close to sleeping with an older man while fantasising about him utterly terrified him.

"Look what I've got! Al Capone doughnuts," Tadashi held the breakfast tray towards Hiro's tense body, a big, dopey grin on his face. Hiro peeked out from under the blanket, giving his brother a weak glare, pretending to have just woken up

"'m not hungry." He said, as his stomach wailed in protest. He flushed pink, hiding his face in his pillow. Tadashi chuckled and set the tray down onto Hiro's nightstand, ruffling his brother's hair affectionately, a gentle smile on his face.

"Look, Hiro..." Tadashi began, scratching his head awkwardly. "I'm sorry, alright? I should have never intruded on your privacy. But I worry about you so much. You're so important to me, Hiro-" Tadashi began to explain himself but before he could continue, Hiro leapt up and flung his arms around his brother, breathing in deeply as he buried his face into his brother's neck.

Tadashi was momentarily stunned, his eyes wide as he felt his brother's shaky warm breath on his neck as his chest rose and fell erratically.

"Whatever, butthead," Hiro grumbled, though Tadashi could hear the happiness in his voice. Yes. Yes! They were finally making progress. A day of not talking and having Hiro ignore and scowl at him felt like an eternity. "Just stop talking and let me eat my breakfast in peace."

The older Hamada laughed heartily, his heart crying with relief, and held his brother firmly in his arms, rubbing gentle circles on Hiro's lower back.

"Good to have you back, nerd."

"Nn." Hiro grunted, his grip growing tighter as he conked his head playfully against Tadashi's collarbone.

Hiro's mind was busy trying to memorise what this felt like. What Tadashi felt like. Nothing like Benny, who'd been all about sex and sleazy touches- Tadashi's touch felt like warmth, concern and love.

They smelled very different- Benny smelled like smoke and heavy cologne while Tadashi smelled like soap, aftershave and floral fabric softener... which, in Hiro's opinion... was the best, most comforting smell in the world.

"Missed you." He croaked, his throat dry, his heart fluttering at what felt like a million beats per second.

Tadashi felt like _home_.

"Missed you too, bro."

* * *

**Next Chapter:**

_The rest of the nerd squad comes in! We learn something (not so) surprising about Gogo..._

Hope you enjoyed it.  
Any feedback or ideas are welcome! :)


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